


Kill For Me

by skargasm



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2012-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-18 17:22:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the 2012 Spook Me Prompt, this is based on the idea that Oz accidentally bit Xander and turned him into a werewolf.  Somehow, turning animal set something free in Xander and now he's out to get what he wants, showing his feelings in a way a vampire might find romantic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Title: → Kill For Me  
Rating:→ NC17  
Author: → skargasm  
Pairing: → Spike/Xander  
Prompt:→ Prompt #327: Rough @ tamingthemuse, Prompt 'K' @ stories_a_z, Prompt #34 @ citrus_taste and Prompt: Werewolf @ spook_me  
Fandom:→ Buffy the Vampire Slayer  
Word Count: 1780  
Genre: → AU  
Beta (s):→ Unbeta'd but proofread  
Disclaimer:→ Not mine.  
Graphics: → Banner by skargasm  
Summary: → Only a vampire would think it romantic.....

 

”What colour were his eyes?” Spike looked over at Red with an incredulous look on his face, completely unable to comprehend the question.

“Listen, Red - “

“This is serious! What colour were his eyes – were they green?!”

“Don't mean to tell you stuff about your playmate that you should already know but the boy's eyes are hazel.” He took a long suck on his unlit cigarette, thinking carefully. “They only really look green when he's - “ Embarrassment petered out his words as he realised what he might be betraying if he continued.

“Not that green. Did they – look, I – were they like glowing?” Spike was seriously beginning to regret telling Willow about the boy's strange behaviour but the Watcher seemed to have taken a vacation and couldn't be found. Bad enough he'd had to tell the blushing girl about Xander's weird behaviour whilst they had been out on patrol – he could hardly believe he'd practically been tongue tied explaining that the boy had damned near dry-humped his leg after the fight in the cemetery. “SPIKE!!”

“What the bloody hell – look, no his eyes weren't glowing green and he wasn't hit by any mojo that I could see. I told ya, the actual fight went bloody well. Actually, it went creepily well – boy handled himself better than I've ever seen! Seemed a bit hyped up afterwards but I put that down to adrenaline hitting him, you know? Just wasn't expecting the rest of it – thought I should warn the rest of you Scoobies so you could do your research thing and what not. What with it coming up to Halloween an' all.”

The rest of it had been Xander roughly slamming Spike against the side of a crypt and laying a kiss on him that practically caused blisters it was so hot. Spike had been so surprised he hadn't even really tried to fight the boy off, especially when Xander pushed his body completely up against Spike's, trapping him against the wall whilst he started grinding his hard on against Spike's groin.

Spike had been so pole axed by the boy's behaviour that Xander was able to trap his hands against the wall while he rolled his hips and tried to to fuck his way into Spike's body through layers of denim, the steel-hard press of his cock arousing Spike in spite of himself. And all the while he'd been kissing Spike all over his face, licking at his mouth, nipping roughly at his lips before burying his face in Spike's neck and inhaling Spike's scent while he rutted himself to a climax.

There had followed a stunned few moments where Spike tried to figure out just when he had come in his jeans like some callow youth and Xander pushed himself up and stared at him in apparent shock. Before he could gather his wits to say something, anything, the boy had blushed scarlet and taken off, leaving Spike standing at the crypt, cum drying and congealing in his jeans and a bite mark on his neck that he hadn't noticed happening but couldn't help running his fingers over.

He realised he was doing it now, his fingers tracing the clear outline of Xander's teeth which hadn't healed despite the blood Spike had consumed whilst filling Red in on 'some' of the events of the evening.

“Goddess, I don't know!! I thought it might be the hyena making a return but if his eyes weren't – where the heck are Giles and Buffy?? I'm not ready to deal with this on my own – whatever it is.”

The girl was wringing her hands as she paced back and forth, obviously shaken and verging on hysterical. Spike was feeling pretty shaky too now he thought about it. The boy really hadn't seemed like himself, announcing to Spike that they were patrolling together and taking off with a loping stride that Spike had had to put on a burst of speed to keep up with. That should have given him warning enough – Xander was more the fall over his feet kind than the athletically running off with animalistic grace. What the bloody hell was going on?

The clanging of the little bell above the shop door broke into his train of thought and he was assailed with the scent of blood. Slayer's blood no less, and a lot of it. Buffy staggered into the shop, cradling her right arm protectively across her chest as she almost fell to the floor.

“Buffy!” Half unwillingly (white hat through necessity rather than choice here), Spike helped her to her feet and across to the desk that was covered in books. Bloody hell, the smell was enticing but there was an underlying scent that distracted him from his instant hunger, an aroma he couldn't quite place. “What happened?” Instantly into Florence Nightingale mode, Willow was helping the Slayer remove her jacket before bustling off for the first aid kit the Watcher kept under the cash register.

“You're not gonna believe this – ow! - but – God, Willow that hurts!” Whiny bitch was complaining as Willow was daubing her numerous scratch marks with surgical spirits. The sharp smell of the liquid cleared Spike's senses and he suddenly got a better sense of the aroma sticking to the Slayer.

“It was the boy wasn't it?” He wasn't even vaguely surprised when Buffy nodded, a curious look on her face before she winced as Willow began to clean out a particularly deep scratch.

“How did you know?”

“Summat outta the ordinary happened during patrol. All adds up don't it?”

“Well I don't know what you think adds up, but yes this was Xander. I can't even say he took me by surprise and that's why he managed to do this. Honestly? He clear out challenged me, said something about proving his worth. He even gave me time to ready myself.” He could tell the Slayer was in shock through her babble but his brain was ticking over. Any demon worth it's name wanted to prove itself worthy – for it's clan, pack or mate. Taking on the Slayer was a ballsy move though – that was take over the Hellmouth kinda worthy. He wondered who the boy was trying to impress, ruthlessly slamming down on the part of him that was beaming with pride and assuming that the bite on his neck – the one that wouldn't heal and that he was once again stroking – was at the very least an interim claiming mark. “I think he was even stronger than that time with the hyena.”

“If the boy was so strong, how come you're here? How come he didn't finish you off?”

“Bet you'd love that wouldn't you Spike?” He knew his smirk gave him away but for once he managed to stop himself from saying anything. “He didn't finish me off as you so eloquently put it because I managed to kick him in the head and do a runner. It's still Xander in there and if we can get him back, we will. Willow, where's Giles?”

“I was going to ask you that. I haven't seen him in a few days.”

“God, not a good time for him to have his buddy Olivia over. That's the only explanation I can think of. We can't handle this on our own. Are you done?” Willow nodded as she efficiently tied a knot behind the Slayer's neck, holding the sling she had put on in place. “Giles' place?”

Which was how Spike found himself sauntering along behind the Slayer and the witch through the darkened streets of Sunnydale. He made no mention of the few demons they passed – if the Slayer was too distracted by her mission to notice the odd vampire having a snack, who was he to mess with a fellow vampire doing what came naturally? And jealousy not withstanding, if his contact came through for him, he might well be rejoining his ilk in culling the populace. Waiting on that phone call had been all that was on his mind for the last few days - now that had been usurped by all this business with the boy. No one could say he wasn't flexible though – his thoughts about making Xander his childe could be altered if the boy was already another kind of demon. He wasn't even going to bother lying to himself – he would take the boy any way he could get him.

His thoughts were interrupted by their arrival at the Watcher's place and seeing the door slightly ajar was enough to put him on alert, even if the smell of old blood hadn't attacked his senses. Couldn't be more than a couple of days old but there was a helluva lot of it by his reckoning.

“Buffy - “

“Yeah, I can see Willow. Hold back a bit will you?”

“But your arm – what about - “

“Ssssh!” Pushing the door to cautiously, the Slayer led them into the Watcher's apartment. The gloom inside seemed strange – they were rarely there when all of the lights were out. Squinting slightly, Spike tried to break the gloom. There was nothing downstairs, not even the hint of a struggle. His nose told him they should head upstairs and catching the Slayer's gaze he flicked his eyes upwards. She nodded, once more pushing Willow behind her as she moved towards the staircase. The second stair creaked loudly and he couldn't prevent the scowl he threw her way – this was the bloody Scourge of demons everywhere? This chit of a girl that couldn't sneak her way into a house she practically lived in half the time? To give her her due, she blushed slightly then shrugged, wincing as the action jarred her injured arm. Served her bloody well right.

She and Willow turned right when they got to the top of the stairs but he followed his nose and turned left, heading for the bathroom where only a few months ago he had been chained up and forced to drink blood through a straw.

“CHRIST!” His cry called Willow and Buffy to him and they bumped into him as they tried to see what had caused him to make the sound. It was no surprise to him that Willow immediately turned and vomited in the hallway and even the Slayer looked grey as she took in the carnage in the bathroom.


	2. Chapter 2

There was blood splattered all over the room, but bloody footprints on the floor led the eyes to the bathtub. Chained up in the short tub, the Watcher's eyes stared sightlessly back at them, his face frozen in a rictus of pain. It looked like his throat had been ripped out and a look deeper into the bathtub revealed stumps where his hands and feet had been. Congealed blood marked the edges of his sleeves and trousers, and the chains holding him upright were so tight they were digging into his torso. If he had been alive, they would have been impeding his ability to breathe to a painful degree and looking closer, Spike could see they were the same chains that had been used on himself.

“Christ on a stick!” His words sounded very loud in the silence of the bathroom and he turned to the slayer, suddenly uncomfortably conscious of how she must be feeling. Her eyes were bright with un-shed tears, hand held to her mouth as though to hold back a scream of pain. For a moment all he could think was that Angelus would have loved something like this. Sadistic bastard had always enjoyed seeing the pain caused by his actions. Shaking his head, he turned back to the body noticing something he had missed on his first look-see. Shoved behind the tight bonding of a chain was a small square of paper. With difficulty he tugged it loose, noting that it was stiff with dried blood. Squinting, he tried to read what it said – it was only a couple of words but -

The scuffling sounds of shoes on the stairs had him shoving the slayer outside, ignoring the warning twinge the chip gave him for his actions. He passed Willow leaning weakly against the wall, eyes dulled with pain, clearly not having heard a thing. He peered down the stairs, the light of the moon through the window illuminating a pale face as whoever it was made their way quietly up the stairs. A stray vampire called by the scent of blood? It made no sense – why would anyone risk entering a private residence on the off-chance of a feed from old blood?

He vaguely recognised the face which wasn't a surprise for Sunnydale, but he couldn't remember the name. Quite short in stature, hair in spikes all over his head and an unmistakeable look of pain on his face. He definitely knew this one but where the hell from?

“Oz?” Buffy's voice surprised him from behind as did Willow's response. With a cry, she lurched from the wall and threw herself into the waiting arms of the boy coming up the stairs.

“Oh my God, Oz, it's Giles – someone – something has - “

“Yeah.” So much expressed with that one word. Oz was obviously more than comfortable handling Willow, tucking her protectively into his side as he finally made his way up to the landing, staring at Spike with suspicious eyes.

“Don't mind him, Oz, he's with us.” Spike had to give the Slayer her due, she had regained her composure bloody quickly. “Have you heard anything about a new demon?”

Oz nodded before jerking his head towards the bathroom.

“Sorry but I think I need to take a look.” Strange when it was more than obvious that he didn't want to but the Slayer didn't argue, just took Oz's place hugging Willow and moving aside so that the young man could get to the bathroom. He gave a hiss of not quite surprise before taking a very deep, noticeable breath. His eyes flew wide and Spike was positive he saw recognition as well as desire. Who was this guy?

“We need to make tracks. Local alpha is on his way.” Alpha?

“What do the pack have to do with this? The treaty clearly - “

“It wasn't pack doing, well not directly. Let's go, I'll explain.” Spike wasn't sure whether the invitation included him but until they told him to bugger off, he was sticking around to find out everything he could. He followed them out of the house, snagging the keys to the Watcher's mid-life crisis mobile as he went. Car wasn't to his taste but he knew people who would take it off his hands for some green and having a bit of money never hurt.

The atmosphere at Willow's house was subdued, a quiet explanation that her parents were away at a seminar the only thing Willow said before disappearing into the kitchen to make coffee. Buffy went off upstairs to shower and get into clothes that weren't bloodstained, leaving him alone with Oz.

“You looked different in L.A.” And just like that he remembered where he had seen the boy before – it was during that cringe-making débâcle with the Gem of Amara.

“S'what a diet of pig's blood will do to ya.”

“Not a voluntary diet choice I take it?” Spike shook his head.

“Government chip, excruciating pain if I try to munch on the local buffet.”

“Initiative?” He was surprised the boy knew anything about them. “Met them myself – pretty nasty bunch.”

“What did you smell and how come?” Not that he wasn't interested in just how the young man had had a run in with those bastards but there were bigger things on his mind. Oz cocked his head, a move that came across as vaguely canine. “Back there – what did you recognise and why?”

“I'm not sure and I don't want to make hasty assumptions.”

“But?”

“Local alpha told me there was a new wolf making his bones – brought the hands and feet of a kill and presented them to the pack. And I thought I smelled - “ Oz shook his head again.

“Say it. Might make more sense than you realise.”

“It can't be right – it smelled like Xander.” Oz looked perplexed and upset. “But that makes no sense. There are rules against changing people now, rules meant to stop even accidental turnings.”

“I take it yours was an accident than?” God, Spike would kill for a cigarette – smoking helped settled his mind, gave him the stillness to put pieces together.

“Yeah, total. This makes no sense but - “

“Are you saying someone turned Xander into a werewolf?!!” Willow stood in the doorway, half frozen in shock whilst the pitch of her voice got squeakier and higher.

“Yeah but no one from around here would – oh God!” Just like that the pup collapsed into one of the chairs, his pale complexion growing even paler.

“What's going on?” Buffy appeared behind Willow, her wet hair proof she had showered off all the blood, her arm once more cradled protectively to her chest.

“I – I wasn't sure – I half thought it was a dream or something...” He was finding it hard to contain his impatience – they were such an incestuous little bunch that sometimes it set his teeth on edge. And this sounded like more of their weirdo Scooby nonsense.

“The last time I was here, the last full moon, Xander helped me lock myself down. I remember there was a bit of a scuffle but I thought the biting thing was just - “

“Oh my God, you turned Xander into a werewolf?!” Didn't seem possible, but Willow's voice was higher still.

“It wasn't deliberate, I swear to you!! He never said anything – didn't mention it at all, and I figured he knew the dangers so it couldn't have happened. I – the next day I had to leave town for a coupla weeks and – God, I don't even know anymore. You know what it's like for me after a change, my brain is all over the place and I just didn't think about it., shoved it to the back of my mind and kinda forgot.”

“FORGOT?!” Red was puce in the face, anger and fear fighting for dominance over her features.

“It – I - “

“Enough!! Whatever happened, happened. You know as well as I do, Willow, Oz would never inflict this on anyone deliberately. And if Xander didn't say anything to Oz – or to us for that matter, what could he have done?” Buffy's voice was calm, something Spike was unwillingly impressed by even as he digested her words. Inflicted? The sheer power of being a werewolf and these children saw it as some kind of curse? He often thought they were a bit cracked, but this was ridiculous. He looked Oz up and down, re-evaluating him now that he knew the boy was a werewolf. Bloody should have seen it – the eyes, the hint of something feral. And he was pushing it down to hang around with the slayer – took some strength. And stupidity. You could only try to repress something for so long before it burst free and things often got very messy when that happened. Just look at the pouf and Angelus.

It also explained some of why Xander was behaving the way he was although not all. The boy turning into a werewolf was one thing, but making his bones for the new alpha by killing the Watcher – what the hell was that about? It would stand to reason that hanging with the slayer gave him a certain kudos – he hadn't needed to go all Sweeney Todd on anyone. Okay, if he wanted to fit in with the pack, show a bit of conformity, the rules would say he should present himself to the alpha, bear his throat and all that, but the killing wasn't necessary. At all. Which meant Xander had possibly wanted to challenge the alpha and this was the start of that. Didn't make sense though, not if Oz knew about it and hadn't said anything.

Or killing the Watcher was a way of showing something else entirely. Stepping back into the shadows slightly, he pulled out the card he had removed from the Watcher's body. Willow was sobbing quietly in a chair while Oz tried to alternately calm and console her. Buffy was awkwardly drying her hair whilst looking out of the window so none of them were paying attention to him. Turning slightly, he picked at some of the dried blood on the small square until he could see the blocked writing.

PRESS PLAY.

 

What the hell?? He hadn't read it wrong but press play on what? Had he missed something else on the Watcher's body? He didn't think so, not unless there had been something in a pocket or underneath the body. Unconsciously shaking out his tobacco, he quickly rolled a cigarette and was about to light up when the slayer scowled at him and gestured with her head. Yeah, yeah, no smoking indoors. Bloody pain in the arse if you asked him. He headed through the house towards the back door, letting himself out and lighting up his cigarette. He stepped down into the yard, dropping down onto the top step so that he was sat staring into the darkness of the back garden. Bloody weird night so far – sometimes he hated the madness that Halloween seemed to cause. Leaning back on his arms, his hand knocked something that was lying by a post and turning he picked it up. Looked like one of those stupid little mp3 type things, only a cheap effort, although what it was doing in the back garden was beyond him. It didn't look old or damaged, and he rolled it around in his hand as he let his mind wander.

Cigarette finished and no further along with the whole Xander thing, he looked down at the mp3 player with mild interest. No headphones but it looked like the thing had tiny speakers – he'd heard some of them before, sounded really tinny and lacked bass which was why he hadn't ever bothered stealing one – he liked to hear his music loud and clear. It was coming to dawn and he needed to get back to his crypt – whatever was going on wasn't going to be sorted out tonight. He stood and stretched, turning back towards the house.

“What's that?”

“What – oh this? Found it out there – assumed it belonged to one of you kids.” Buffy held out her hand and shrugging, he threw the little machine at her. She checked it over, turning it over in her hands.

“It's not mine – I don't remember Willow having one either. Look, Spike, can you - “

“Press play.”

“What?” Scowling, Spike grabbed the mp3 player from her hand and pressed the play button. A few moments of silence and then a song began to play. He didn't recognise it to start with, although he knew the voice almost immediately – Annie Lennox if he wasn't mistaken. “What the heck Spike? Is this some weird game you're playing? Ha ha, very funny song choice.”

“What's the song title?”

“Huh?” If it wasn't for the chip, he'd have slapped her he was so frustrated.

“What's the title of the bloody song you useless bint? OW!” Holding his hand to his nose, he wondered just how much of a zap he'd get from the chip if just once he punched her back? He was sick to death of her always aiming for his nose.

“I know the song.” Oz stood in the doorway. “It's called 'Love Song for a Vampire'. Why – is it important?”


	3. Chapter 3

Convincing the slayer that the MP3 player was just a poorly timed prank cost him another punch to the nose and he knew it was only because of her distraction over the watcher that prevented Buffy pushing further. As it was, the little red headed pup was looking at him in a way that said he wasn't convinced by Spike's explanation and it was only Willow's well timed albeit piercing hysterics over the entire situation that saved him from a grilling interrogation.

MP3 player clutched lightly in his hand, Spike made good on his escape and headed for his crypt. The Scoobies had obviously underestimated Xander and his ability to plan things and took a keen mind to figure out just where they'd go after finding the Watcher and hiding the little machine where Spike was exiled to smoke was pretty clever. He must also have figured out that the only person who wouldn't be devastated at the loss or grossed out by the blood would be Spike and therefore he was the most likely to find the note. Clever and a bit chilling in how clear headed the boy had obviously been. Spike knew people who had been turned into werewolves – yeah, they were the same people who went furry a few times per month, but there was something about being infected with such an animal that seemed to release them from their normal inhibitions. It looked like Xander was letting go of all constraints and going with his animalistic side but if that was the case, what the hell was going to happen next?

Spike was wondering about the blushing reaction in the cemetery – it hardly seemed to mesh with the the cold mind that had sawn off the watcher's hands and feet, posed him in the bathtub and then presented his trophies to the local alpha, all the time maintaining his goofy, bumbling image for the rest of the Scoobies. It could join the ever growing list of questions Spike wanted to ask the boy once he'd caught up with him – first and foremost, being what the bloody hell he was doing scent-marking the vampire without permission. Spike had figured that out after one too many less than subtle sniffs by Oz.

And it looked like he was going to get to ask the question sooner rather than later because the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end and he just knew someone was watching him. Watching and following.

He didn't change his pace or look around, simply continued on to his crypt. He left the door open as he walked in, deliberately standing in the middle of the space so that he had plenty of room for whatever might be coming. Xander didn't look particularly different from earlier that evening – had it really been a few hours – but now that he knew what to look for he could sense a few things.

The boy's scent had changed – less soap and shampoo and more gamey and earthy. His walk had an animalistic grace to it – less shuffly and way quieter, enough so that Spike couldn't actually say for sure just when the boy had started following him. And the eyes....

Those eyes weren't just Xander any more – if the change in him showed anywhere, it was here. There was another, darker presence behind those eyes, watching Spike, calculating, considering – intimidating but sexy...

“Evening Pet. Wondered if I'd see you again tonight.” A grin split Xander's face and it wasn’t a pleasant one. “Bloke likes to know whether he's a one night thing. You never struck me as the hump and run sort but you never can tell.” It was so difficult to read what the boy was thinking – the constant grin was unnerving and he wasn't making any of the normal nervous gestures that gave away so many clues. Maybe it was his dual natures fighting, but the boy was definitely not playing with a full deck.

“Did you like the present?” Still by the door to the crypt, Xander looked relaxed but Spike wasn't fooled. The boy was here for a reason.

“Which present would that be then mate?”

“I would be guessing you and the gang went to see Giles – oh boo hoo, what do we do with Xander this time? Have you any idea how aggravating it is to be treated like a constant problem? Actually you probably do know don't you Spike? Ever since that damned chip, you've had to put up with us and all of our ignorant speechifying.” Xander stretched and Spike found his eyes were drawn to the thin trail of hair appearing just under the hem of his tee-shirt and disappearing into his jeans. He'd got changed – obviously – and these jeans were tighter than he normally wore and a dark denim. They showed signs of wear and tear with small rips down the legs, but he found he was riveted by the faded denim at the crotch. So much so that he completely missed it when Xander made his move.

The boy was fast. Seriously fast. Before Spike had even registered that he had moved, Xander was slamming into him and knocking him to the floor, Knowing that if he didn't get up he was done for (all of those years fighting with Peaches had taught him his strengths lay in his speed and agility because he didn't have the bulk). He shoved at Xander's shoulder, rolling in the opposite direction as he did so and springing to his feet. A well timed kick caught Xander in the face and he jumped over the downed man, heading towards the door.

Presenting the boy with his back was a mistake as he was once more knocked to the ground by a tackle around his waist and he lay stunned for a few precious moments – moments that allowed Xander to climb up his back and sit on him. Strong hands pushed his shoulders down as he tried to arch backwards and then he was covered by the hot heavy body. Gathering his strength he waited, turning his head away from Xander as the boy leaned down so that his face was right next to Spike's, resting his cheek against Spike's cheek.

“I'm not.” The words were breathed into his ear and his brow scrunched up as he tried to figure out what Xander was talking about. “The hump them and leave them type. That tended to be what happened to me.”

“My heart bleeds for you. Now can you get off me – you're bloody heavy.”

“Not like you need to breathe. And I like where I am – now you smell like me all over. I like that too.”

“And why the bloody hell should I care what you like?” He tried to get his hands beneath him so he could push himself up to no avail. Xander had positioned himself damn near perfectly – Spike couldn't get enough strength beneath him to push up and the man's entire weight was basically holding Spike down. Which left his hands free to wander.

“You should care what I like because you're mine. What – did you think I hadn't noticed all the signs? Even before all of this – you were mine. I just didn't quite have the balls to do anything about it. After all, what did I have to offer you?”

“So what, now you've got a bit of demon in you, it's all different is it?” He wriggled his hips, trying to get into a position where he might be able to get his legs under him. It was hard to talk with Xander's weight on top of him – if he'd been human, he would be in severe danger of hyperventilating or at least struggling to catch a breath, “Didn't think you swung this way either, mate.”

“Oh I've swung both ways for a while now. But I was too scared of what it meant to do anything about it. So many petty rules and regulations. Do you know I used to pity Oz? Thought he suffered through this every month. But now I've got a much greater appreciation for things. All this power – God, it's enough to go to a person's head. I admit it, when it first happened, I was kinda devastated. I finally realised that Oz's little nip meant I was joining his furry club a few days ago for sure. All these sudden changes couldn't be ignored any more. New strength, new sense of smell."

"It was the sense of smell that really clued me in to you. Aroused vampire has an aroma all of it's own, you know? But by then I'd done a bit of reading, tried to figure out a few things. Met the pack alpha by accident and he sniffed me out almost immediately. Told me if I wanted to stick around I'd need to bare my neck to him, give proper tribute” All the while he was talking, Xander's hands were sweeping up and down Spike's body wherever he could reach and Spike struggled to remain immune. Such big, warm hands caressing his sides, the bulk of Xander's body holding him in place. “Then Giles called me round, said he needed to talk to me. I thought he'd figured it out somehow, was really panicking. But guess what? He didn't have a clue about any of that. He wanted to talk to me about you.”

“Me?!” Spike realised he had actually relaxed into the soothing caresses when his body involuntarily stiffened at Xander's words.

“Yep.” The younger man popped the 'p' sound, his nose rubbing down Spike's nape before he felt the moist touch of a tongue licking up towards his hairline. “He told me that chip or no chip, you were nothing better than an animal, that we had got all the use out of you that we were going to and that it was time to put you out of your misery.”

“Bastard.”

“He told me because he thought I would understand his reasoning and help explain it to the ladies.”

“So, what happened? I don't understand how you went from planning to stake me to – well, to - “

“To what's left of Giles tied up in a bathtub?” Spike nodded, still stunned by all of it. “It's very, very simple when you think about it. Nobody gets to hurt you but me. No one lays a finger on you but me.”

“Very romantic, Pet, but where exactly is all of this coming from? Not sure how dual natured you are but the Xander I knew before wouldn't have done anything like that.”

“Like what? Obviously you don't know me as well as you thought. I may be soft hearted but when the situation demands, I do what needs to be done. I'm the one who decided not to tell Buffy about re-souling Angel in case she didn't put him down like the insane psycho he was.”

“It was your fault she sent him to hell?” The very idea blew Spike away – he knew a bit about it but hadn't known that.

“Uh uh. Not my fault she sent him to hell. If she had listened to what the prophecy actually said, had paid attention for once, she would have learnt that she didn't need to throw him in bodily. It took, what, a palm print of blood to start Acaltha off? Shouldn't have taken more than that to stop it in it's tracks. She sent him to hell – I just made sure she wasn't fighting with one hand tied behind her back, waiting on a miracle that Willow might not have been able to conjure up.”

“Bloody hell!! You better not let the pouf know all of that – he bears grudges.”

“Fuck him. Besides, I told him once he'd got his senses back – why wouldn't I?”

Jesus, he really didn't know Xander at all. All this time he'd been fixated on the boy's resemblance to William without noticing there was an awful lot of 'Spike' inside him. How could he have been so completely blinded to the boy's dark side?


	4. Chapter 4

“And let's not forget the whole hyena possession. Yeah I was an asshole but that wasn't all the hyena. You know as well as I do the demon builds on what;s inside. In Oz's case, not so much with the darkness until he lets out his furry side. With me? More darkness on the inside than people might think. You don't grow up like I did, don't kill your best friend in the world, see some of the shit that I've seen since Buffy came to town and not grow a pair.”

“But why the maiming? Why chain him up?” He didn't need to be able to see Xander to feel the careless shrug.

“I needed a tribute for the alpha. And I wanted to do something for you.”

“For me?”

“They chained you up in a fuckin' bathtub like a wild animal. I heard the way Giles talked to you when he thought no one else was around. Whatever you are, you were worth more than that. They gave Angel all sorts of credit when the useless bastard did next to nothing but you they slam because you follow your instincts? Not right.”

He knew he wasn't doing a good job hiding his emotions and thoughts but it was almost ridiculous how easily the boy managed to read him.

“I know all about the freedom of following your instincts. And maybe that's why I feel the way I do now. If I thought Willow would want to be part of my pack, I'd bite her in a second. But I know her – she wouldn't want this. This wouldn't be freeing for her – for her, this would be a slice of hell. So I have to leave her behind, make my own pack.”

“An' where do I figure in all this? You got my mind racing, luv, gotta tell ya. One minute you're going on about killing the watcher for me if I'm not mistaken, the next you're blushing like a schoolboy and running away. You talk about the importance of pack but you killed the watcher and attacked the slayer. Confusing. If you let me up, maybe we can talk about it - “ The laugh was loud and instant and had an incredibly interesting effect on Xander's body, the vibrations shimmering through Spike's body.

“Sometimes I forget how clever you are. Ummm.” The last was said as Xander buried his face in the nape of Spike's neck, humming and almost purring as he rubbed his face across the soft skin. “You feel so – its hard to describe, I just know you're mine.”

“Oh yeah? Do I get no say in any of this then?” Although the wanton way he was spreading his legs and pressing his arse up pretty much spelled out how he felt about Xander's statement of ownership. He couldn't help it – everything about him: the rejected poet, the abandoned demon – everything screamed his desire, his need to be wanted, owned.

“Of course you get a say. You get a say in whether we stick around the area or not – I know you've got a line on getting the chip out. You get a say in whether I fuck you here or downstairs in your lovely double bed.”

“Slayer won't let you stick around after you killed the watcher.” He knew that for definite. She might have if there had been something to exorcise but for Xander to kill Giles just because of something he had planned to do to Spike would be pretty much unforgivable. No, they couldn't stick around in Sunnydale, which did indeed completely fuck up Spike's plans to get the chip taken out. Maybe he could get some details on another demon ready and able to get his chip taken out?

“Fuck her – she gives me any trouble and I'll finish her off.”

“Think it'll be that easy do you?”

“Easy? Nah – nothing worthwhile comes easy.”

“Sounds like something the watcher would say. No regrets?” Regrets for killing the watcher for him, for effectively cutting all ties with the Scoobies?

“About killing Giles? He asked for it. I was just protecting what's mine. Now, can we get to the fucking already?” No doubt, with him lying there and taking it like an obedient little bitch? He didn't think so.

“The lube's down by the bed.” He allowed Xander to haul him to his feet before spinning and punching the boy in the head. A human would have been down and out for the count, but Xander merely staggered back, shook his head and then attacked. Spike had no idea the boy could fight like this – whether it was instinctive for the wolf inside or Xander had picked it up over the years and was finally out of his own way enough to let it out. Whatever it was, fighting the boy wasn't proving to be easy.

They traded punches and kicks, destroying the upper floor of his crypt so they battled back and forth. The scent of Xander's blood was amazing but was a distraction he could well have done without. It was a direct result of the high kick that caught the other man in the face, and lip bleeding, Xander was grinning at him in a slightly maniacal manner, obviously enjoying the battle in a way he never had before.

“Seems like you're liking this a little bit too much there, luv.” Xander made no attempt to hide his erection, another distraction Spike could have done without.

“Oh come on, Spike, wasn't it you who said demons are all about the three 'F's – feeding, fucking and fighting? And any one of them can lead right to the other. You can feel it, can't you? Got your blood pumping, adrenaline racing around, makes you want to bust out and scream, punch, fight and fuck?”

“Kinda verbose of ya – like you're old self nearly. Seems like under that little bit of furry, it's still you.” Edging around, Spike tried to figure out how he was going to handle this. The boy wasn't tiring out and in fact, seemed to be revitalised by it all. And Spike was out of practice and fighting on pig's blood. He realised he could actually lose this fight.

“Tell me you're not liking it.” Xander bounded in, landed a blow to Spike's shoulder, then bounced out again. Bloody stupid question, of course he -

And Spike suddenly wondered just what the hell he was fighting for. He WANTED Xander, and a demon Xander, capable of fighting like this, strong enough to wound the slayer and kill the watcher. Surely this was his dream come true? And while he was figuring that out, Xander dove in and took him to the ground, mouth attacking Spike's neck as he shoved his way between Spike's legs.

For the first time, he allowed himself to simply respond, biting at Xander's neck in turn as he wrapped his arms around the broad chest and tried to drag the other man impossibly closer. Xander gave what could only be described as a whimper of pleasure before he stopped nibbling at Spike's neck so he could pounce on his mouth instead. Firm lips, invading tongue, the exquisite pressure of Xander's full weight pressing him to the floor and Spike couldn't think of the last time the blood had fizzed through his veins, pumping him up until it was like being stoned and hyped up on drugs. Killing the slayer on the subway couldn't compare to how it felt to have Xander on top of him, body pressed as close as they could get whilst still clothes. So hot, so freakin' hot, that mouth he was more used to hearing babble nonsense taking possession of his own with passion and honest desire. To get lost in this man was -

“No – no, not now dammit!” Xander pulled away, shaking his head whilst looking angry and confused.

“Xander - “ As Spike watched, the boy's eyes shifted until they were all black, lips drawing back into a snarl revealing teeth that were elongating. The shaggy hair got longer and shaggier, face shifting but not quite becoming a muzzle. Xander grew taller and broader, shoulders stretching the tee-shirt he wore until the seams gave under the pressure and Spike had to try to conceal the little shiver of arousal that caused. Xander's face remained mainly human as his physique changed – growing, stretching, broadening.

“What the hell?”

“I – Spike, what's happening to me?” That was Xander's voice, scared and vulnerable even as it was deeper and throatier. Getting to his feet, Spike held his hands out in a universal gesture that he meant no harm.

“Not seen much in the way of werewolves changing and I've never seen anything like this.” This was a Xander who seemed half animal, half human, a hybrid reminiscent of the beast-man in movies than anything Spike had seen before. Xander whimpered again, looking scared and unsure. “Come here, luv, come with ol' Spike.” Uncertainty coloured his movements, but Xander slowly reached out and accepted Spike's hand, following as Spike tugged him through the debris of the destroyed room towards the hatchway that led to the lower ground. Once Xander realised where they were heading, he stalked closer, crowding behind Spike as they reached the hole in the ground, confidence obviously restored. “Need to give me a little room, pet, unless you want one of us to fall through and have an accident.”

Xander grunted and pushed Spike to one side, ignoring the ladder to jump straight down. “Cocky little bastard”, Spike muttered, but with a shrug he followed suit, gasping as instead of landing on his feet he was caught by Xander and dragged into his arms.

Whatever vulnerability had been there before was long gone as the boy yanked at Spike's jacket, throwing it to the floor as he leaned down and nuzzled Spike's neck. His hands remained busy, stripping off the tee-shirt whilst managing to maintain contact with as much skin as possible, near silent growls and snarls coming from him as he worked to get Spike naked. The clink of his belt brought Spike out of his dazed stasis and he grabbed at Xander's hands.

“Gotta take my boots off first otherwise this isn't gonna work.” He peered up under Xander's fringe, maintaining eye contact until he saw a glimmer of understanding in the midnight eyes. “You go strip off over there so I can get a good look at you and I'll get these off, okay?” Another snarl but Xander obediently stepped back, yanking at the back neck of his tee-shirt to haul it over his head. “Christ!” Frozen, Spike forgot all about his boots as he took in Xander's altered physique. Broader in the chest, dusky brown nipples peaked in the cool air. His skin rippled constantly as though he was on the verge of changing, but no fur appeared. The muscles of his shoulder and upper arms bulged as he went to work on his jeans, kicking off his sneakers and dragging off his socks impatiently before he returned to his waistband.

Even as he began to peel the denim down his hips, Spike could see the heavy material was straining to contain the huge muscles working in Xander's thighs. He took an unsteady breath, wondering just how powerful those legs were and realising he was going to find out he couldn't decide if he was excited or terrified. Another growl had him looking up and he realised Xander was watching and waiting, obviously displeased that Spike had not removed his boots.

"You still in there pet?" The midnight eyes flickered hazel, brown, a momentary glowy green, then returned to black. "Guess that'll hafta do." With a sigh, Spike bent down and dealt with the laces of his boots, stripping off his socks and tossing them to one side. "Well here I am, luv, in all my - "

He didn't get to finish his sentence, an embarrassingly high pitched cry escaping him as Xander rushed over, grabbed him and with a few bounding steps bodily threw him onto the bed. With no preamble, he dropped on top of Spike, spreading his thighs with hot hands, fingernails scraping the soft skin as he stroked over the muscled legs before hoicking them over into the hooks of his arms.

"Fuck - lube Xander!" Thrown off kilter, Spike shouted the words as Xander hovered over him, obviously intent on getting inside as quickly as possible.

Xander tried to shake off the voice in his head that was screaming at him to take Spike now - to thrust straight in and break him open on blood and pain, make the final claim. That wasn't right, not good - he wanted, no needed to make this good for Spike too. Yes, he wanted blood and he wanted Spike's cries but he wanted his moans to be of pleasure as well.

As he leaned back, Spike scrambled up the bed, stretching to reach the upturned crate beside the headboard that served as a bedside table. A battered tube was thrust into his hands and a feral grin crossed his face as he vaguely registered the same lube he had been using for months to jack off to thoughts of Spike. A hurried squeeze onto his fingers and then he knee-walked up the bed, yanking Spike back down beneath him. He moaned at the feel of a taut cheek in his hand as he tried to be as gentle as possible pulling it to one side. A whimper caught in his throat as pale hands joined his, tugging Spike's ass cheeks obscenely wide so that he had a clear view of a tightly furled pink pucker. God, he wanted to be in there now – wanted to shove himself so deep that there would be no telling where he ended and Spike began.

Slick fingers rubbed, pressed and cajoled until the tiny rosette relaxed enough for entrance and his two fingers were sliding into shockingly tight, dry heat that made his eyes want to roll back in his head. He twisted them, gently at first, spreading the lube around, scissoring until the tight grasp loosened enough for him to be able to thrust back and forth.

Spike jerked and groaned and the next time his fingers pulled out he saw blood and hesitated. His eyes flew up and met the startlingly hot blue eyes that were watching him.

“S'good yeah. Don't – don't stop.” He nodded, holding Spike's gaze as he once more thrust deep, fingers stroking and rubbing until he felt a walnut sized lump and ran his fingertips over it. The effect was mesmerising, Spike's cock lifting and thumping on his abdomen, a drool of pre-cum linking the pale pink head to the smooth, white, muscled expanse of his stomach. Once more and Spike's hips jerked as he bit off a curse.

Liking this, only vaguely aware of what he was touching to cause such a reaction, Xander added another finger, twisting his hand around so that one by one his fingers played over the sensitive nub of flesh.

“Fucking hell!” Spike's face was flushed, his hands digging into the cheeks of his ass as he held it open for Xander's touch. Xander was torn – everything within him loved seeing Spike like this – spread-eagled and wanton, helpless beneath the touch of Xander's hand within his body. But there was absolutely no denying his other need – the need to claim, to fuck his way into Spike's body, to feel that tight heat holding his cock prisoner.

Unable to hold back any longer, he tugged his fingers free, rooting around in the rumpled sheets to find the abandoned tube once more. Squeezing some onto his fingers, he hissed as he stroked it onto his cock, head bowed as he bit hip lip and tried to concentrate on the pain to stop himself coming at just the feel of his own hand. A slight shuffle forward and he was pressing the head of his cock to the stickiness of Spike's spasming, slicked up hole. Guiding himself with one hand, he locked eyes with Spike as he pushed forwards with his hips. Seconds felt like hours as he pushed, harder, then harder still until the muscled ring finally gave way and the head of his cock popped in.

Tight.

Hot.

Clenching.

Gritting his teeth, he let go of his cock and reached for Spike's thighs, forcing them up and out to rest once more in the crook of his arms. Spike's eyes had squeezed shut as Xander worked the head of his cock in but now they fluttered open, pupils blown wide. He looked dazed – perfect. Xander let his gaze travel down the lean torso, the stomach muscles clenched by the position, the wide vee of Spike's legs crowned by the slightly softened length of his cock, down to where he could see his cock cock just breeching the entrance to Spike's body. He felt something click into place inside him. A sense of peace, a feeling of rightness, a calming of the beast inside him that had been clamouring for just this moment since the moon had started rise, fat and full, into the night sky. Back up to Spike's eyes, where most importantly he could see lust, desire but also acceptance.

He snapped his hips forward as he threw back his head and howled.

It was all he could do to press his hands to the headboard, holding himself steady for the thrusts buffeting his body. His balls were aching, his cock once more stiff and heavy on his stomach as Xander hammered into him over and over again, no longer howling but growling and snarling as he worked himself in and out of Spike's body. Spike had never felt so owned in his entire life.

Legs imprisoned over Xander's arms, he could only moan as Xander leaned down, biting and kissing Spike's neck. He barely registered when his legs were released until Xander's arms were pushed under his torso, clawed hands reaching to grab his shoulders from underneath so that he could bodily pull Spike into the hefty thrusts. Unerringly hitting his prostate, heavy body holding him down, muscled stomach providing the friction Spike needed. His legs were now free to curl around Xander's waist, hips thrusting his cock against the hot skin of Xander's abdomen, hands squeezing the metal bars of the headboard as he worked himself closer and closer to climax.

He managed to open his eyes a sliver, struggling against the hot, heavy passion dragging him under, staring up at Xander's face as the man thrust and moaned above him. The midnight eyes were locked to his face, greedily taking in every sign of his pleasure, of his surrender. It felt like his balls were turning themselves inside out, the skin of his cock felt tight and painful as he struggled for that one last bit of sensation, that final thing that would push him over the edge.

A biting kiss to his mouth forced his eyes closed before Xander buried his head against Spike's neck, impossibly doubling the powerful movements of his hips as he fucked Spike. Spike could hear him whining, could feel Xander's clawed nails digging into his shoulders and drawing blood, and he was almost crying with the need for something. Anything. More.

“Mine!” The growl was loud in his ear just before Xander once more lowered his head and with no preamble dug his teeth into the join of Spike's neck and shoulder, biting hard, making his mark. It was the 'more' he needed, his entire body clenching in an agony of pleasure as he came, splattering up against Xander's abdomen, his own chest, hitting his chin. Xander was crushing him close, slamming into him harder and harder, growling as he reared back, howling. Possessive midnight eyes were his last sight as the world whited out around him.

 

It was the rumbling of the engine that woke him up. He felt quite dazed and couldn't figure out where the hell he was. Rubbing his eyes, he struggled into a sitting position, flinching as the sunlight caught him completely wrong and temporarily blinded him. Cautiously he sat completely upright, stunned by how bright everything was. Something clicked in his head and he thought necro tinted glass. Expensive but very effective.

“You're awake then”. The rumbly voice came from the driver's position, and he turned his head, moaning as it felt like his brain was banging around and that he had ripped something. Bringing his hand to his throat he felt a familiar brand/mark of teethmarks, silently reassured that they were there. The bandage over his head was new though.

“What - “

“Don't panic. Everything went well – you munched down on a technician to prove it. Things just got a bit hot so we had to leave straight away. It's okay – the Dr said you might be a bit out of it to start with.”

“Out of it? Feel like my head's exploding.” Uncertainly, he ran his fingers over the bandage, feeling what could only be described as a dent in his head where he knew the chip had originally been placed. Felt like they'd taken away a chunk of his brain, which might explain a few things...

“Yeah, sorry, they had to do some major rummaging. Who knew your brain was so damn big?? Struggled to find it and had to cut away more than they originally planned. But it worked – it damn well worked.” The satisfaction in the deep voice was obvious, and he found himself smiling automatically in response. Deciding sitting in the back of the car didn't agree with him, he clambered between the seats, throwing himself into the passenger seat and turning to the driver.

Long, shaggy hair hung over a handsome face, smiling hazel eyes flicking over him appreciatively. There was something behind those eyes, something dark and animalistic that caused a shiver to cross his frame, an image in his mind of the same face but the body was taller, broader, more powerful – strong, hard, holding him down and owning him. Not always though – only sometimes. Weird that his body remembered whilst his head was fogged up, and squaring his shoulders, Spike asked the question that had been bugging him since he woke up.

“Who the hell are you? To me, I mean. Feel like I know you – recognise your scent but - ” A toothy grin was thrown in his direction, those eyes traveling the length of his body possessively.

“It'll come back to you, don't worry. In the meantime, just think of me as someone who has and will kill for you. Always”. And strangely, bearing in mind he normally needed to be in control, had to be the boss, Spike found that he was actually quite comfortable with that.

For now. After all, it was kinda romantic.......


End file.
